Lately, when Brandon is displeased about something, he has taken to expressing his frustration with a deep, guttural 1 second growl. It goes like this: Me: "Brandon, it's time to clean your room." Brandon: "Grrumph"; Me: "Brandon, it's time for Tucker to go home." Brandon "Grrumph"; Me "Brandon, UNTIE LINCOLN NOW!" Brandon: "Grrrumph". I have been giggling/concerned about this regression in Brandon's vocabulary until the other morning when I sat down to read the paper, realized somebody had smeared raspberry jam all over the seat of my chair and a loud "GRRUMPH" flew out of my mouth. Apparently, I make that sound all of the time and Brandon has just taken to mimicking me. For me, that is one of the most disturbing things about being a parent - the fact that your small children are little caricatures of you. If you want to know what you sound like when you are angry, just listen to your child yell at a sibling. The other day I heard Felicity yell "Emily STOP! I am NOT putting up with this for another minute." I had said that exact phrase to Felicity earlier in the day. The thing that caused me pause over this exchange was Felicity's demonic Gozer voice. Huge inward wince - is that really what I sound like? All of my weaknesses and flaws are ruthlessly exposed by the innocent and honest mimicry of my behaviors and attitudes by my children. Any delusions I had about being patient or good-tempered were dissolved the day Emily started speaking in full sentences. Even little Lincoln is in on it already. It is no secret that I have a deep and abiding love of baked goods. Some people dream of winning the lottery; I dream of being trapped in a bakery. And, of course, this obsession is rubbing off on my kids. The evidence: Case #1: A few months ago Lincoln was walking down the hall at church, holding a baggie of mini cookies happily munching while he toddled along. It wasn't long before he tripped and fell and the cookies flew out of his baggie and scattered all over the floor. Laying on his back after his fall Linc thought first of the cookies, even above his own well being. While still layed out flat on his back he started grabbing the scattered little cookies and shoving them into his mouth as fast as he could because the cookies must be saved! I had to laugh and yet again inwardly wince because I think I would have done the exact same thing. Case #2: A few weeks ago I bought a huge box of Oreos from Costco. When I carried them in from the car, I had Lincoln in one arm and the box of Oreos in the other (they were roughly the same size). Lincoln looked at the Oreos, his eyes widened a little and then he wrapped his little arms around the box in a loving embrace and began to kiss it repeatedly. Oh my. I think it's time for me to start romancing vegetables.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Mini Me
Lately, when Brandon is displeased about something, he has taken to expressing his frustration with a deep, guttural 1 second growl. It goes like this: Me: "Brandon, it's time to clean your room." Brandon: "Grrumph"; Me: "Brandon, it's time for Tucker to go home." Brandon "Grrumph"; Me "Brandon, UNTIE LINCOLN NOW!" Brandon: "Grrrumph". I have been giggling/concerned about this regression in Brandon's vocabulary until the other morning when I sat down to read the paper, realized somebody had smeared raspberry jam all over the seat of my chair and a loud "GRRUMPH" flew out of my mouth. Apparently, I make that sound all of the time and Brandon has just taken to mimicking me. For me, that is one of the most disturbing things about being a parent - the fact that your small children are little caricatures of you. If you want to know what you sound like when you are angry, just listen to your child yell at a sibling. The other day I heard Felicity yell "Emily STOP! I am NOT putting up with this for another minute." I had said that exact phrase to Felicity earlier in the day. The thing that caused me pause over this exchange was Felicity's demonic Gozer voice. Huge inward wince - is that really what I sound like? All of my weaknesses and flaws are ruthlessly exposed by the innocent and honest mimicry of my behaviors and attitudes by my children. Any delusions I had about being patient or good-tempered were dissolved the day Emily started speaking in full sentences. Even little Lincoln is in on it already. It is no secret that I have a deep and abiding love of baked goods. Some people dream of winning the lottery; I dream of being trapped in a bakery. And, of course, this obsession is rubbing off on my kids. The evidence: Case #1: A few months ago Lincoln was walking down the hall at church, holding a baggie of mini cookies happily munching while he toddled along. It wasn't long before he tripped and fell and the cookies flew out of his baggie and scattered all over the floor. Laying on his back after his fall Linc thought first of the cookies, even above his own well being. While still layed out flat on his back he started grabbing the scattered little cookies and shoving them into his mouth as fast as he could because the cookies must be saved! I had to laugh and yet again inwardly wince because I think I would have done the exact same thing. Case #2: A few weeks ago I bought a huge box of Oreos from Costco. When I carried them in from the car, I had Lincoln in one arm and the box of Oreos in the other (they were roughly the same size). Lincoln looked at the Oreos, his eyes widened a little and then he wrapped his little arms around the box in a loving embrace and began to kiss it repeatedly. Oh my. I think it's time for me to start romancing vegetables.
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1 comment:
I love that cheeser!
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